The shock wears off after several minutes of us staring at each other in silence.
And God help me, why does it turn me on so badly, knowing the man I have a huge crush on is my stalker? This isn’t how I imagined it. Being stalked.
“I’m sorry.” He swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Hannah, I’m sorry.”
I keep staring at him, my silence deliberate.
“Say something. Please ”
I don’t think he deserves a response. I mean he did put me in chains, and scared me to death.
“Why?” I finally ask. Why go this far? Why stalk me? I still haven’t ruled out the possibility that this is kidnapping. Not when I don’t know his reasons yet.
“Because I’m sick,” he says. “A sick forty-seven year old man who’s obsessed with you.”
My jaw drops.
Obsessed?
“You’re all I think about,” he continues quietly.
